Tag Archives: Art

An answer to the question “to ink or not to ink…”

I believe that is one of her cankles...

I believe that is one of her cankles…

When I first left Charleston and returned to Michigan, I thought a lot about getting a tatoo.  I don;t have any tatoos.  It’s something I have thought about off and on for years but there have been a few mitigating factors holding me back:  could I stomach the pain of a giant needle cutting beneath my skin?  Was there any piece of art or words I was willing to attach to my skin, possibly forever?  Is there any tatoo…er I could trust either artistically or hygenically?

For these reasons, I have never “gotten ink” but I have considered it.  I thought about getting a picture of The Boy after I came home.  I’ve had a few other ideas over the years but nothing really made me want to make such a long-term cosmetic commitment.  A few days ago, the STBX posted the picture below the her Facebook page and made me decide, once and for all that I would never put ink to my skin:

The part that has been sprayed over in crappy MS Paint actually spells out The Boy’s name.  I covered that for obvious reasons.  Now, I’ve heard the expression “Quiet as it’s kept” before but never really understood what it meant.  Thanks to Sis, and Urban Dictionary.com I can now glean this meaning from it:

quiet as kept snip
So…what exactly is the STBX ashamed of?  The Boy?  His father (i.e. me)?  Her failed marriage?  Her part in the destruction of The Boy’s family? Herself?   It doesn’t really matter.  This tattoo is not unlike a vanity license plate on a car that contains such an obscure or deeply personal reference that it has to be explained to strangers and is thereby ultimately self-defeating of it’s purpose to begin with.
This I know:  this is the most publicly outspoken the STBX has been about anything pertaining to out divorce.  She’s managed to mask just how much this whole thing has affected her…until now.  And now she has to wear that fugly ink on her cankle FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE.  In hindsight, I’m just glad I never decided to put a tattoo gun to my skin now.  This whole thing would be pathetic, if it wasn’t so funny.

…and valleys

I have good days and I have bad days.  On those days in-the-middle, i have good times and i have bad times.

Earlier tonight was one of those bad times.  As time drags on, i’m having a harder time dealing with not seeing my son.  I occurred to me earlier tonight that this – living w/ my parents, scraping to get by, going back to school – this is my life now.  It’s not a vacation; it is the new normal.  And it sucks.

Today is September 11 and by and large, I’ve done a pretty good of avoiding all of the 9/11 TV specials.  This is especially interesting since I’ve been home all day.  I may be that 9/11 is finally becoming just another day in history for most of us. In my opinion, that’s a good thing.  it suggests a return to normalcy for the country at large.

I finally went through the separation document the STBX had written up and put my remarks into a Word document for my lawyer to look at. I hope to finally send that to him tomorrow.

Yesterday, I started something I should have done 22 years ago.  Inspired by my high school reunion, I decided to finally label photos from my trip to France all those years ago.  Whatever it takes, I guess.

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